Rap’s often referred to as “the game,” and games hold zero value without the characters involved. So it makes sense Pimp C saw himself as “a character.”

Shot shortly after his release from prison following a four-year stint, Chad sat down for an interview I had no clue existed until now. The Pimp was subdued, in a reflective state many recently freed former inmates experience.

“If I could bring a certain person or some certain people back to this world from the afterlife, I would give all this shit up to do it you know what I’m mean? Cause at the end of the day hey man, know what I’m sayin’? You can’t take this shit with us. It’s all fly things— Hey man, these instruments man, you knowamtalmbout? Instruments to get the bitches man, you knowamtalmbout? For real man, you know? But uh, it’s cute you knowamtalmbout? But it’s not our world…it’s not our world.”

In the years since Pimp C’s death, paying homage has become sort of a status symbol in rap. Beyond the rants and what were misogynistic overtones at points was a guy in touch with his spiritual side. He wasn’t the type to beat down doors quoting scriptures. Instead, Pimp played the role of flawed mercenary to an exact science.

A walking contradiction, he was. He loved jewelry and all the materialistic things in life, but was never consumed by its trappings. He loved women, and loved rapping about his exploits with them. Yet, calling a spade a spade, it’s not difficult digging through his catalog to find the true love and adoration he had for them. And, most certainly, he was an aggressor. But he desired peace in rap, too.

The Pimp wasn’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination. Being so would’ve made him boring and predictable. And who wants that out of one of their favorite characters?